Stopping Power
by Sun-Tsu Toriden
Summary: Commander Mark Shepard wonders what Miranda's bodysuit is made out of, and get's caught staring. Hilarity ensues. UPDATE: Now with more hilarity as the rest of the Normandy Women become tools of Fate to torment the poor Commander Shepard.
1. Chapter 1

Shepard went down to the armoury to pick up his weapons, and found Miranda already there in her standard body-hugging catsuit, pulling out her weapons and checking them. Ever since their first mission together he'd been curious as to how she managed to go groundside wearing that, and yet never managed to get any holes or injuries. It looked like nothing more than lycra, but knowing Miranda there would be something unique about it. He already had his visor on, so he set it to scan, tilting his head down a little and focusing on the holographic screen in front of his eye, not what was beyond it.

Miranda looked up and saw Shepard's head tilted down, definitely looking at her body. She cleared her throat to get his attention and put on a coy smile. "Like what you see, Commander?" Shepard broke out of his little trance and realised that it must have looked like he was staring intently at her breasts.

"Uh, no, no, just checking something with my visor," he stammered in reply, cheeks tinging with embarrassment.

"Anything in particular?" she asked, her voice almost a purr, enjoying the chance to see the usually unflappable Commander squirm. She leaned forward a little bit, leaning against the table where a rifle was partially assembled. Shepard looked away hurriedly, not wanting to get caught staring.

He finally managed to get out, "What is your outfit made of?" Miranda sighed, she had half hoped he had been staring at her boobs; it would have been funnier for her.

"If you want to know, it's actually made out of a micro-armour weave. It'll actually deflect small arms fire, but it doesn't have the stopping power of your hardsuit when it comes to rifle and shotguns rounds." She held up a hand to examine the fabric on the back of her hand, before clenching it into a fist. "That's why I have training and biotics, so it doesn't come to that."

Shepard nodded, impressed, just as his visor gave him the exact same information. He looked her up and down, noting appreciatively the way the fabric clung snugly to her curvy figure, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. "So your outfit is designed for its stopping power, then?" She looked down at the low neckline of her top, showing a more than ample amount of cleavage, before looking back up at him with that seductively coy smile.

"There's more than one way to stop a bullet."


	2. Chapter 2

Commander Shepard peered down through the scope of his sniper rifle, surveying the upcoming battlefield from his elevated position. The _Normandy_ had received intel that a group of human mercenaries were creating illegal weapons in preparation to hit a nearby human colony. So he had brought in his team to clear them out, good deeds and warm fuzzies all around.

He'd split his forces into two teams, to hit them from the front and the back. The frontal assault squad had most of the heavy hitter like Garrus, Zaeed and Grunt. His smaller squad to take them from behind included himself, Thane, Miranda and Jack. The lithe biotic had complained when she heard she wasn't going to be in the frontal assault, but calmed down when Shepard explained that she was the only one going to getting up close and personal in the softer rear attack. The grin she had given was almost feral when she heard that part.

So now Shepard and Thane were watching from the top of a nearby ridge, both lying prone in a way that would give them excellent recoil control and accuracy, and a good view of the rear of the facility. Shepard was waiting until Garrus had given the report that they had started the assault on the front, trying desperately not to let the scope of his rifle move downwards to stare at Miranda's new outfit.

Well, to call it new was somewhat of a misnomer. After they had dealt with Niket's betrayal and ensured Oriana's safety, Miranda had allowed some subtle signs of mourning to appear through the cracks of her normally unbreakable facade. The most obvious was the new outfit. The design of the outfit itself hadn't changed, nor had the material as he had learned (from asking her, not staring at her boobs again... definitely not). But this one was black. Top to toe, totally black, seeming to cling even more closely to her cream coloured skin. The orange highlights and piping only adding to the distraction factor of a body just begging to be worshipped clad tightly. Even her navel was visible as the micro-armour weave created a sort of suction in her midriff.

So, Shepard raised his rifle away from Miranda's distracting outfit and looked at the door as the lock changed from red to green, indicating that someone thought being attacked was a good time to make a hasty retreat. Shepard and Thane opened fire, taking out two of the targets who came into scope. Another was crushed against the wall by the biotic throw from Miranda. The other half a dozen of them flailed madly as they careened through the air, sent flying by Jack's shockwave.

After they had lost the element of surprise, it was harder, but the bottleneck of the doorway made it easier to beat the mercenaries' superior numbers. All was going fine until one of them got lucky and managed to throw a grenade right in front of Jack. She barely had time to throw up a strong biotic barrier and turn her back before it exploded. The blast itself did little damage to her, given the purple haze that still surrounded her, but the shockwave and fire did have a minor secondary effect.

Jack's pants lay in a smouldering heap a metre away, the thick straps she wore in lieu of a shirt had snapped, and the remains of her panties were wrapped around her left ankle. Her boots were fine though. Jack took a few seconds to recover before she could take stock of her new state of undress. Shepard just stared at the new areas of skin unveiled for the first time, his breath catching in his throat. Though Jack's breasts were no-where in the same league as Miranda's, didn't mean they weren't exceptional in their own way. And he found himself noting that the carpets did in fact match the drapes, in the way they were completely shaven clean and tattooed. What caught Shepard's attention was the tattoo in this intimate and sensitive region was not what he'd expected.

"Nice teddy bear ink there Jack," he said with a joking lilt in his voice.  
"Thanks, it's one of my favourites," came Jack's slightly woozy reply. Shepard watched Jack's face through his scope as the words she had uttered filtered through her brain. First it was the unpleasant frown at the pleasant reply she had given, instead of her usually expletive-filled outburst. Then it was the realisation that he was talking about the tattoo that no-one ever got to see. Then she looked down and realised she was only wearing her boots, then looked back up, almost directly into his scope, pure fury etched on every feature.

"FUCK YOU SHEPARD. IF I HEAR EVEN A SNIGGER, I'M GOING TO COME UP THERE AND RIP YOU SO MANY NEW ONES, YOU'LL HAVE MORE ASSHOLES THAN A CERBERUS CONVENTION!" With this she picked up the shotgun, wreathed herself in a biotic barrier so powerful it was almost opaque and stormed into the back entrance of the base. Miranda was running to catch up and join her, while Shepard left Thane at the vantage point to ensure no-one escaped and ran to join the two biotic women in the base.

As he ran he pulled up the video feed from Miranda's omni-tool. He watched in silent horror and amusement as the almost naked woman stormed through the base. The last thing a lot of the mercs saw was a small, angry, naked woman stomping purposefully towards them, biotics flaring and shotgun firing. The video feed showed them all looking very surprised before they were killed by the raging inferno formerly known as Jack.

Ten minutes later the base was cleared, all the mercenaries either killed or captured. Shepard and Miranda had taken Jack to what looked like the crew bunks, her biotics starting to fade as wrath and fury dulled to mere anger and frustration. Jack kept on mumbling about how those were her favourite pants, her boots clanking loudly on the floor as she walked ahead. Shepard desperately tried and failed to stop his gaze falling on the sight of the shapely and colourfully inked rear in front of him. As they reached the bunks and Jack began ransacking the lockers looking for something to wear, Miranda leaned in close and whispered conspiratorially.

"Looks like I'm not the only one who knows other ways to stop a bullet." Shepard couldn't stop himself in time as he choked out a chortle, looking up to see Jack's snarling face looking up from her bent over position over an open footlocker.  
"Oh crap," he said to himself as the purple fist sped its way towards his face.


	3. Chapter 3

Ah, ventilation shafts, the universal hole in everyone's security.

Kasumi, lying prone long the cool metal of the shaft, smiled as she pulled herself along, silence being paramount in this situation. Her target was still several floors up, and she needed to proceed cautiously if she wanted to get to it undetected. The shafts were thankfully large enough to navigate herself through, though even she had to admit it was a tighter fit than she had expected.

As she came to a vertical junction that would take her upwards and closer to her target, she laughed silently to herself at her progress thus far. Bypassing the electronic countermeasures that would initially stop the unprepared from even entering the ventilation system in the first place had been surprisingly tricky. She would have complimented the person who installed it, but that would kind of defeat the whole purpose of being the best thief in the galaxy, not the most famous. After that, her normal sweep for the standard security measures turned up nothing she'd usually find, and that made her wary. No-one used that much paranoia on stopping people accessing the vents without also placing something in the vents as well.

She checked again, but there was no trace of infra-red lasers, ultra-sonic motion detectors or heat sensors. She turned up the gain on her omni-tool scanning mod, looking for any sort of wiring or electronics. She eventually found them, and followed the outside of the shaft as much as possible to try and find it. She wasn't disappointed, it was in the most unobtrusive place, attached neatly to the wall, very small and close to the welding and bolts that secured it. She would have missed it if she wasn't looking for it specifically.

She deftly opened the case, selecting an interface on her headgear to magnify the image. She could see the wiring and circuitry, and she was now definitely impressed with the person who had thought up this particular security measure. Pressure sensitive pads, air analysers to detect breath and an ultraviolet laser grid. This was definitely turning out to be a lot of challenging fun, and she wasn't even in the vent yet. The laser grid was easy enough to disable, just blanketing the vent with low-level ultraviolet. The air analyser could be bypassed with a sealed mask, but the pressure pads were a problem. She couldn't just disable them; it would attract some sort of silent alarm. Physically removing the control circuits was also out of the question if someone came to investigate a glitch. She ended up spending 15 minutes writing a program that would infiltrate the pressure sensors and program them with a different pressure trip before they activated. The code itself was tricky, it was written in a completely original language. Most of the time was just understanding the code itself, before quickly writing her variant. After that, it was simply a matter of uploading it, putting on her mask and setting up her laser grid tool for the specific wavelength of ultraviolet this system used.

As she negotiated her body through the 90 degree turn into the vertical shaft, she was glad she had chosen her climbing utility belt today, even if it did mean it was harder to get through the admittedly small shafts. After climbing to the top floor where her ultimate target lay, she resolved to send the designer of the security system an anonymous fruit basket. As she got to the shaft for the top floor, she frowned and took back the mental note for a fruit basket of any kind.

The ventilation shaft for the top floor was even smaller than on one she had used to get access to the ventilation system in the first place. There was barely enough room to fit her head and shoulders, but there was only one problem: the material of her outfit was a lot less flexible than it looked, and she doubted it would fit along with her in the small space she had to navigate. She tried anyway, hoping that she was wrong, only to be back in the vertical shaft a several minutes later cursing her bad luck. She pulled a magnet from her belt, attached it to the cool metal inside of the shaft, and tested it for strength. After that she did something she would never live down if word spread. She took off all her clothing, everything except for her underwear and her omni-tool bracelet. Because this was a spur-of-the-moment job, she was wearing black lacy underwear, sexy and comfortable, but not particularly practical in her current predicament.

After checking for anymore security surprises and finding none, she silently cursed as she slotted herself back into the tight shaft, uncomfortably aware of just how cool the metal was as it touched far more skin than it had a minute ago. She crawled over towards a nimbus of light that came from a vent grill that would give her the first physical look at the room her target was in. She was fully in the shaft, arms pulling her along, when things started to go wrong.

Firstly, although the ventilation system had been made to a very high standard, it had never been made to accommodate a slim Japanese kleptomaniac. While the metal shafts on the lower floors were welded and bolted enough to support her, her assumption that this smaller shaft would also support her was badly flawed. No sooner was she completely in the smaller shaft then the metal welds suffered a catastrophic failure. The bottom of the shaft that was supporting her broke cleanly away and fell to the floor, carrying a very alarmed Kasumi with it. With a deafening clang that definitely compromised her thus far impenetrable stealth, both girl and metal crashed to the floor.

Right in front of Mark Shepard stepping out of his shower.

Kasumi was still for a moment, dazed from the impact, until a small cough from somewhere above her caught her attention. She angled her head up to look at the face of Shepard, wrapped only with a towel around his waist, his mouth hanging open in surprise. For his part, he looked down at the lithe little Asian clad only in black lace lingerie that not five seconds ago had fallen onto the floor of his private cabin at the top of the _Normandy_. Her jaw was open too, and as their eyes met, they both had a moment of recognition, swiftly followed by shocked horror.

"Kasumi?" Shepard asked as he found his voice. He looked from her face to the ceiling she had just fallen out of. Shepard's confusion didn't abate as the thief stood up, a sheepish look on her face. Then his brain started working. "What were you... were you spying on me in the shower?" he blurted out. This kick-started Kasumi's brain, and she shifted her vision from the towel she had been inadvertently staring at.  
"Eww Shep, no. Even I don't stoop that low," she replied haughtily, as if it were somehow his fault the position she was now in. _Though, I bet there would be a lot of people willing to pay for something like that. Maybe I should look into that later, _she thought to herself.  
"So why did you fall from the ceiling and why are you dressed in..." Shepard trailed off as his brain caught up with his eyes and realised just how little Kasumi was wearing.

"Well, not that you mention it, it was so I could do this." She walked over to his desk and picked up the diamond necklace that Shepard had confiscated off Kasumi after their last mission. It was a complete fluke that he happened to notice the glint coming from her pocket anyway, so it didn't count, obviously. She was just coming up here to rectify the situation. She then turned a partially-completed model ship around and re-arranged some other items, just to mess with him. Then she turned around calmly and activated her cloak, poking out her tongue at him in a childish manner before she disappeared completely.

Or at least, that was what was meant to happen if she was wearing her suit with the fully-integrated optical camouflage circuitry. As it was, Shepard looked like he lost sight of her simply because he was stumped at her audacity. As she reached the door to the elevator, promising to give have a nice talk to EDI about the security systems on the ship, Shepard called out to her.  
"Are you really planning on parading around the ship in your panties?" She turned back to him; their faces now reversed with him calm and her shocked. Then she quickly gathered her composure and continued as if she hadn't just had that falter.

"Well, are you going to be a gentleman and offer me a coat or something, or do I have to let everyone know about my own... stopping power?" Shepard tried not to let the blush of embarrassment he was feeling show as he tossed a linen robe at the thief, who simply took it and wrapped herself in it, before leaving in silence.  
"EDI?"  
"Yes, Shepard?"  
"Were you recording that?"  
"Yes Commander. Operative Lawson will review this footage at a later time, and I'm sure she will also question you about your nocturnal visitations by female members of the crew." A stony silence was all Shepard could make as the colour drained from his face.  
"That was a joke," she added, before turning off her blue avatar.

A month ago, Miranda would have just mentioned it in passing with a knowing smirk and perhaps a gentle ribbing. But after being caught staring at her armour (definitely not her breasts, no matter what certain uppity Australians said) and after Jack's recent wardrobe malfunction (the bruise was still hurt, and it was a week ago!) he knew there would be no end to the jibes from both of them by breakfast time.

It was official now. Fate was conspiring against him to embarrass the hell out of him. And there would be no living with any of them now.


	4. Chapter 4

Mark Shepard imagined that if there was such an Entity as Fate, whoever or whatever it was had now taken a personal interest in him. And for whatever reason, it seemed to think that putting him in situations where he would make an ass of himself in front of women was a laugh riot. Especially if the women were as attractive as they were dangerous (which was almost all of them). And double if they happened to be in a state of undress (or skintight bodysuits).

It had all started with an innocent question about Miranda's choice of outfit for away missions. Then, Jack's wardrobe malfunction while taking out those mercs and a misunderstanding that made her punch him (he still hadn't forgiven Miranda for that one). Then last week Kasumi had literally fallen from the ceiling in lacy black underwear just to poke her tongue at him and steal back a necklace he'd confiscated.

And it had only gotten worse since then.

First had been the incident with Samara. While Joker tended to be fairly harmless when it came to personal pranks, this time he'd pulled out the stops. He'd used the intercom to say that Samara wanted to speak with him about something in her hangout in starboard observations. Mark had raised an eyebrow and asked why Kelly or Samara herself hadn't made the request. Joker said something about how Kelly was on Break and Samara didn't know how to broach the subject. Mark was sceptical, but if it was true, he always made time for his crew.

He went down to the crew deck and over to the door for observation. He could hear the faint sound of soothing music coming from the other side, and the door itself was opening. He pressed the holographic button and walked in, slowly, just in case this was one of Joker's pranks. There was no sign of Samara in her usual spot facing the window, so he took a few steps in to see if she was still in the room.  
"Samara, you wanted to speak to me?" He looked right the stern end of the room and saw nothing, but when he looked left to the bow end he stopped in his tracks.

Samara was there in the room, but she definitely didn't look like she needed help. In fact, it looked like she was going through a very relaxing form of yoga, or some asari equivalent. Yes, that was definitely what she was doing, Mark concluded. The only difference really was that she was doing it with her eyes closed, and her body was wreathed in the signature purple flare of biotics.

Oh, and one more detail. She was doing it completely sans clothing, not even a pair of socks. She opened her eyes, moving into a lotus position, canting her head slightly to the side in confusion.  
"No, I did not ask for you Shepard. Regardless, would you care to join me? I've heard stretching exercises such as this work wonders for human flexibility." She moved into another position, one which just happened to accentuate her already incredible breasts. Mark gulped like a fish out of water for a moment, before his brain connected to his tongue.  
"I must have been misinformed. Perhaps some other time, Samara. I'll leave you to it," he managed to get out. He moved towards the door, his eyes having difficulty leaving the sight of Samara's naked body until he walked right into a bulkhead.

As he rubbed his head behind him as the door closed, he could hear the sound of Joker's laughter even from here. He looked up and knew he would be looking into the lens of one of the numerous cameras on the Normandy. Obviously, Joker had gotten access to it, so he could record Mark's humiliation.  
"_Oh Commander_," came the devil himself over the intercom. "_If only you could see the look on your face right now. Oh wait, you can, because I'm recording every delicious second of this_!"  
"Joker, you have about five seconds before I come up there and rearrange some of your bones."

"_Don't be too hasty Commander. Who knows which buttons I might accidentally press while you beat on me, there's no telling where it might end up. Tali's omni-tool, Kasumi's terminal, its own custom-made ready-to-launch extranet site... Just saying. Oh, and if you're wondering if I knew what was going on in there, the answer is no. Even I don't want to press her boundaries_." Mark was sure that every word of that last sentence was a lie, but when your tormentor has blackmail material of you walking in on a naked yoga session, and then running into the door on the way out, they have you over a barrel.


	5. Chapter 5

Mark Shepard was still woozy from his little drinking session in the Dark Star Lounge. He'd been interested to see just how far he could puch his body now, since Cerberus had given it a hardware upgrade along with the hard restart. He'd started with something green, but the turian behind wasn't kidding when he said it was strong. He'd ended up having three of them, and got the feelings of a good buzz going.

Then he'd moved onto some uncut batarian ale, the good stuff. Kicked like a mule, but damn if it wasn't something that left you wanting another, so he'd had two in the end. Then he went for broke and tried ryncol. He didn't remember exactly what happened next, but he regained consciousness on the floor of the men's room. He decided that enough was probably enough, so he made his way back to the ship. He'd given the whole crew shore leave, so while he didn't expect to see anyone working he did see a few people as he crouch-walked his way back through the CIC to the elevator.

He pressed the button and waited while the sound of the elevator rising and the ding at the end caused him immense pain. He waddled the few steps that separated the elevator from the door to his quarters. He was about to press the open button when something, some instinct like a little voice in his brain, told him that he should go down to the mess and drink a bunch of water first.

Later, he would regret not heeding that little voice in the back of his head.

He opened the door and the first thing that he noticed that could be put in the _this isn't right_ category was the sound. He wasn't entirely sure in his current state, but he was certain that his cabin when it was empty didn't sound like someone having sex. He took a few more steps in, enough so he was at the top of the short flight of stairs and could see his entire cabin. He looked down to the bed and was fairly certain that the two women currently occupying it were not there when he left. He had a feeling he would have remembered that. They hadn't noticed him yet, what with one head firmly placed between the other's thighs and the other one with her eyes tightly closed and moaning loudly. They were both extremely naked, a fact that he recognised but somehow didn't register.

Shepard just stared in horrified fascination as the two ladies continued to have, by all impressions of the one still moaning, oh and now writhing, fastastic sex on his bed. After a few seconds of this he recognised the one making all the noise as Tricia Goldstein, and the redhead between her legs could only be Kelly. Finally, some part of his brain managed to reach a connection and took control of his mouth.  
"Uh... did I miss something?"

The sound of his voice stopped everything. Tricia looked up and her moans of pleasure quickly turned into a startled squeak. She quickly grabbed the first thing, namely one of his pillows, to cover as much of her body as possible. Kelly looked up from her position, making eye contact with Mark but making no moves as yet. Then a lusty light came into her eyes, along with a wicked smile.  
"Well, since you were gone, and you do have the most comfortable bed, I was showing Tricia here a good time." Tricia hid her face, trying to make herself not exist right now. "We were having a lot of fun without you, but well, the more the merrier I always say. I'm sure Tricia won't mind sharing." Her smile was dripping with sex and her voice was the epitome of seduction.

At any other time, Shepard probably would have shed clothes and joined in. But with the effects of ryncol still beating areas of his brain with a stick, he gave a response that he would later regret.

"I should go."

With that, he turned around and left, heading down to the mess to get that water, his mouth suddenly parched. As the door shut behind him, he thought he heard someone say.  
"You better finished what you started Kelly. Oh, and lock the door, I'm all out of exhibition fantasies now."


End file.
